Endgames
by Mystical Magician
Summary: When Tony found himself suddenly protected from the unforgiving grating and cold metal walls of the ship by a warm, breathing male body, his first thought should have been fear that he was hallucinating at last. But memories unfurled in his mind just as suddenly, every one of his experiences near-death and dying. He had never been alone then, either. Ironstrange.


This was inspired by the Avengers: Endgame trailer.

* * *

When Tony found himself suddenly protected from the unforgiving grating and cold metal walls of the ship by a warm, breathing male body, his first thought should have been fear that he was hallucinating at last.

But memories unfurled in his mind just as suddenly, every one of his experiences near-death and dying. He had never been alone then. He had forgotten in between those moments, his memories wiped clean.

Tony allowed himself to relax in the other man's lap, turning his head and nuzzling slightly into the familiar blue robes that covered the long, wiry body he leaned on. He tried not to fixate on how he could see the spaceship's interior through that faintly translucent body.

"Save your strength, Tony," the deep voice said when he began shifting. A trembling hand came to rest on his chest, encouraging him to be still. "You're starving and dehydrated. You don't have the energy to spare."

"I'll lose oxygen in the morning," he replied hoarsely, lips dry and cracked. "What difference does it make, Stephen?" But he let his body go limp.

"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered. "There is no other way."

"What, a slow, drawn-out death instead of a quick one?" His bitter laugh tore at his sore throat. "And half the universe gone." There was so much more he wanted to say. To scream, to shake the asshole beneath him, to hurt someone, anyone as much as he was hurting. But he didn't have the energy or the motivation.

"You're not dying here."

"Isn't that why you're here? You know, I really thought you were, like, my really hot anthropomorphized visualization of Death, or a Grim Reaper, or something. You only appear when I'm about to die, and I never remember when I survive."

"Then that should be further proof that you won't die, shouldn't it? You always claim I'm lying, and I prove you wrong every time."

That smug tone always got underneath Tony's skin, and he bristled in offense. "Excuse you. _I_ prove _myself_ wrong every time. You were just along for the ride."

The chest he rested on vibrated with laughter.

"Shut up," he muttered. They rested for a time, Stephen's steady heartbeat – he had no idea how that was possible and didn't question it – calming to listen to.

Tony broke the brief silence. "It's different this time, though. Isn't it? Half the universe is gone. And I've finally met you in person. I know that you really exist."

"You've known that since those weeks you were dying of palladium poisoning," Stephen murmured. "You weren't exactly subtle when you were trying to decide if I was actually a hallucination."

"You can hardly blame me. It was the first time you stuck around for longer than a few minutes, unless you count Afghanistan. And I was hardly in any shape to spare the processing space for figuring you out back then."

Stephen hummed, his embrace tightening in response.

"You didn't answer, Merlin. Will I remember now that I've met you?"

"No," he sighed. "The situation hasn't changed just because you met me in person. Or…well, that's not entirely true. What's changed is that I'm bending the rules by appearing to you in my future, while I use the Time Stone on Titan. I shouldn't be here, but I thought it was a small enough margin that it could be risked. I only meant to make sure that the past matched up to the one timeline in which we win.

"But the method hasn't changed, and so neither has the result."

Tony's eyes burned, and he blinked back tears he couldn't afford to shed. "It isn't fair," he rasped.

"Life never is," his companion murmured, chin resting lightly on his head, and he could picture the sardonic smile that twisted those lips. "You know better than to think it would be." After a beat, Stephen continued, "But isn't it better this way? No interfering complications. No second thoughts. You'll be happy."

"_No_." The desperate denial was ripped from him. "I don't _want_ to forget everything.

"I love her. I've never loved anyone the way I love her.

"But I'm so fucking _in _love with you Stephen."

The sorcerer froze. Tony couldn't even feel him breathe despite being pressed tightly against him.

"You don't even know me," he said at last, voice cracking.

"Don't," Tony said, knowing where he was going with this.

"You're overemotional because I only ever come when you're dying. It's just some type of hero worship. It would have faded quickly, if you remembered."

"_Don't_ be a condescending jackass, Strange. Yeah, I'm reckless and impulsive, and I don't know every last thing about you. But I think I've got a pretty good idea of _who_ you are by now. I know what I feel."

Silence. And then Tony felt Stephen forcibly relax, enough for it not to feel like he was sprawled across a statue. "Alright," that deep voice murmured. "I won't argue with a dying man."

"You won't let yourself believe me," he accused softly, proving that he knew Stephen better than the other man thought.

"It's a moot point."

"But you'll remember. You could..." He trailed off, feeling the movement of the sorcerer shaking his head behind him.

"It's unlikely that I'll remember either. Not really. Even for a photographic memory, over 14 million futures are nearly impossible to remember with any clarity."

"But if this is the one timeline – "

"It will be hard enough to retain what I absolutely need to know for any significant amount of time. Irrelevant details will be forgotten or relegated to my subconscious. At best, I might dream of this. More likely, it will be overshadowed by nightmares."

Tony squeezed Stephen's forearm. "If winning is this ugly, I can hardly imagine what all of those losses looked like."

The smaller man deliberately released his tension in a sigh, and licked dry, cracked lips. He shouldn't be speaking so much. Stephen had been right when he said that he couldn't afford to use up his energy and what little water his body still retained. But he wasn't worse yet. He never knew what it cost Stephen, but he always felt a little bit stronger when the sorcerer appeared. Just enough to get through his near death.

"Do you do this with others too?" The question escaped him, and he couldn't quite mask the jealousy that he had no right to feel. It was a thought that hadn't occurred to him until Stephen told him that he was ensuring that the past matched the one timeline.

Stephen shifted and leaned forward. To catch Tony's eyes, maybe, but he resolutely kept his eyes shut. It was childish, but he was exhausted, his emotions scraped raw, and he hadn't meant to ask the question. Was a little afraid to hear the answer.

"Exactly how much time and energy do you think I have?" The words might be scathing, but the tone was almost…fond. "Everything else fell within acceptable parameters, but you're the key, Tony. You were the one person who absolutely had to survive the 'Snap'."

It should make Tony feel better. And it did, except…

"Is that the only reason?" he asked quietly, as if uncertain whether he wanted Stephen to hear. He hadn't really said anything in response to Tony's confession. Maybe he had just been reading too much into Stephen's obligations. Maybe he preferred that they not remember what they'd shared.

The sorcerer exhaled, and shifted so that the side of his jaw rested against Tony's temple. "I died over and over – " his voice cracked, "and over again for the world. My heart seems a small price to pay in exchange for half the universe."

Tony considered this. "Is the inability to give a straight answer a wizard thing, or is it just you?"

Stephen scoffed. "Gods know why, I'm in love with you, you absolute douchebag."

"The romance is already dying. Like me," the self-made hero pouted, once again trying to suppress his tears as overwhelming feeling constricted his throat. A choked sob escaped him before he could stop it, and lean arms tightened around him in response.

It was selfish. It was so, so selfish to ask of the other man, but he did anyway. "If you do remember, Stephen, tell me. Please. Just…tell me. Try to remind me."

He hesitated for a long moment. "…Alright. I will."

It might have been a lie.

Tony chose to believe him.

"Now, how am I going to survive this? What do I need to do? I won't remember anyway, so you might as well explain in detail this time."

He drifted off, comforted by Stephen's low rumble as he explained step-by-step what was going to happen next, and how they were going to defeat Thanos.


End file.
